Exercise is not something I enjoy doing; it is something I must do in order to stay healthy.
John Bingham's website: http://www.johnbingham.com/
John Bingham is the one who said: "The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start."
I used to play outside, all the time. I ran around, a lot.
What happened?
Hormones. Yep. Dreaded hormones. My body made my life miserable. I could find no relief.
Eating was a nightmare all its own, and I'm not going there today.
I loved walking with my dog.
I'm getting ahead of myself.
In high school, I discovered dancing. I didn't take any dance classes because I figured I was too graceless. I grew fast in a short amount of time, and I truly was pretty clumsy. Not a big deal. I went to the school dances, and my boyfriend would take me out to dinner at places where they also had dancing. We went for the dancing.
When I was 18 years old, I tore all the ligaments in my ankle. It should have been put in a cast. It wasn't. By the time I took myself to the doctor, he informed me, with a shake of his head, that there was nothing he could do. He also sadly told me I'd have trouble with it for the rest of my life, and it would eventually lead to back problems. I could never wear high heels again or go dancing ever again. Eighteen years old and my life was over as I knew it. Hey! I was eighteen. I knew how to do dramatic.
I thought it was terrible at the time. Now, with a whole lot more wisdom, I'm able to look back and thank God for what happened. It changed my life forever, for the better. I just didn't appreciate it for a long time.
Different therapies were tried: Cortisone shot (never, ever again), a cast, and physical therapy for my ankle. The cast was a major mistake. The doctor realized it had allowed all the scar tissue to stiffen up. The pain was excruciating. The physical therapy could only be done in the office, and the fee wasn't cheap.
Walking became the one thing I knew I could do that would keep the scar tissue limber enough to avoid pain. My ankle still looks perpetually swollen, 30 years later.
As predicted, the scar tissue twisted my foot out, and threw me off balance. It was only a matter of time before my back gave out. It did in spectacular style. A herniated disc in my back. That's a whole story by itself. I landed in physical therapy, again, but this was completely different.
My new physical therapist was amazing, Craig Galbasini. He gave me exercises I could do at home, and he expected me to do them. I did. Faithfully.
The kicker? He taught me an exercise that straightened out my foot. It's fast and easy and painless. I only had to do it a few times, and here it is years later and my foot is still straight.
With my back trouble, I knew I'd be married to my physical therapy for the rest of my life. That didn't mean I liked it, only that I promised to stick to it, no matter what.
My commitment to my exercise wasn't stellar, until I started the REAL program.
This month is the one-year anniversary. What a difference a year makes.
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